


We start tonight

by Silvaxus



Series: SPN Heaven & Hell Bingo 2019 [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: ALL THE CONSENT, Claustrophobia, Claustrophobic Sam Winchester, Consent, M/M, SPN Dark Bingo 2019, SPN Heaven and Hell Bingo, SPN Song Challenge Bingo, Sam Winchester Bingo 2019, Sam trapped in the panic room, no consent here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21642124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvaxus/pseuds/Silvaxus
Summary: The walls were closing in on him. He could hear every sound from the outside. Every word, every whisper...every laughter...while he was trapped downstairs in the basement like a rabid dog. They would bring him food and water two times a day, but neither of them spoke a word to him. He was alone, kept like a feral pet they didn’t want to show mercy on and put down. No, he was forced to hear them from his cage below their feet.
Relationships: Lucifer/Sam Winchester
Series: SPN Heaven & Hell Bingo 2019 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1307618
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70
Collections: Heaven and Hell Bingo, Sam Winchester Bingo





	We start tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Heaven & Hell Bingo Square: Temporary Allies  
> Sam W. Bingo Square: Free Space  
> SPN Dark Bingo Square: Claustrophobia  
> Song Challenge Bingo Square: Sunday Bloody Sunday
> 
> My Beta for this fic is my friend and sister in trouble [Imoshen](https://mrsimoshen.tumblr.com/)

Sam sat in the darkest corner of the panic room. The massive and rusty door of the panic room was pushed open with a screeching sound that hurt his ears, and so he covered them with his hands while he closed his eyes. He still heard the familiar, muffled sound of his brother’s steps as Dean walked through the room and placed the plastic plate next to the cot Sam was given to sleep on. Sam rarely slept these days.  
  
Knowing that the door was open only made the walls close in on Sam faster. He shivered so hard he clenched his teeth hard enough they hurt. Neither did he open his eyes to look at Dean nor did he make an attempt to escape from his prison. Sam knew it would be futile. He was too weak from the imprisonment his brother had forced on him.  
  
He only got food that wouldn’t need cutlery to eat it, and it was barely enough to not feel hungry throughout the whole day. Still, it was more the lack of demon blood that made Sam feel so weak. What had been left of it in his blood when he was thrown into his cell was long gone, and the process of detoxing hat been long, painful and left Sam in more agony than he had ever felt in his life. No one helped him when he screamed in pain. Utterly alone, Sam had accepted that no one would come for him to help him, free him from this prison or even spare a few kind words towards him. The feeling of the walls closing in on him started during the detoxing together with the hallucinations.  
  
Afterwards, when Sam lay on the cold floor with his sweaty clothes sticking to his skin, was when he realized that the hallucinations didn’t show him anything that wasn’t the truth. He was alone, locked away, and should he die in this place; no one would take notice.  
  
_“Not true...one would notice”_ , a tiny voice whispered in the back of his mind, but Sam tried to ignore it. While he was craving sleep like a drowning man needed air to breathe, Sam wanted to keep himself awake until he was too exhausted to do it any longer. In his dreams, he would have to face Lucifer, and deep down Sam knew that it wouldn’t take much more or much longer until he gave in to Lucifer. Why fight when even the walls were taking his breath away, and his brother looked at him like a freak and not like he considered Sam his brother anymore?  
  
When Sam heard the loud bang of the door slamming shut again, he took his hands down from his ears and opened his eyes again only to roll himself together to make himself as small as possible on the cold hard floor.  
  
He could smell himself, sweat and fear; the food Dean had brought him and his brother’s cheap aftershave. The mixed scents made him nauseous, and Sam had only so much strength left to keep himself from vomiting. Only the thought of having the smell of his own vomit mixing with the trapped-in scents of himself in the small room enabled Sam to control himself.  
  
Crawling over to the cot where Dean had placed the plate because standing required a strength Sam didn’t have anymore, Sam kept his eyes down on the floor. Staring down at the cement floor helped him to pretend that the walls weren’t collapsing on top of him from all sides.  
  
He ignored the food, even in his weakened state it looked too greasy and as if it had been out in the warmth for too long, and reached for the water bottle. For some weird reason, Dean never left the bottle caps on and only ever left small bottles of water behind. It felt like he wanted to starve Sam of everything and make him beg for the most trivial things. Sam would never beg for anything. Dean had thrown him into his prison, and when its jailor refused to take care of the prisoner, it wasn’t the prisoner’s job to beg for anything. Somewhere in the darkness that was Sam’s mind, another voice, harsher and filled with rage, whispered that he would instead force Dean to watch him slowly starve before he would beg for his brother’s forgiveness on his knees.  
  
Sipping on the water, because he had to last half a day with a small bottle of water, Sam made the mistake of looking up. Immediately the walls, the roof, came down on him like a rockfall. Sam jerked back, whimpering like a frightened animal, but when he tried to get up his legs couldn’t support him. His legs gave in under him, and he landed back on the floor, hard. The bottle rolled out of his hand when his head smashed against the cement floor...Sam blinked once, twice...before darkness took his vision, and he fell into a darkness without a name…  
  
…  
  
When Sam opened his eyes again, he knew he was dreaming. He remembered falling, remembered the moment his head smashed against the floor...and then nothing. Looking around, he felt nothing of the familiar fear of the walls closing him in until he couldn’t breathe anymore, and he wasn’t in the panic room anymore.  
  
It didn’t look like a place Sam had visited before, but a mix of places he had seen in his life. He was too tired and worn down to actually care that he was dreaming, and when he met bright blue and patient eyes, Sam didn’t care anymore that he was in the presence of the so-called epitome of evil. How could Lucifer be evil when it was his own brother who was his jailor now?  
  
“Hello, Lucifer.”  
  
Even to his own ears, Sam sounded tired, and he arranged the soft blanket around his body as his dream-self was sitting on a soft and comfortable bed. So much better than the cold hard floor in the panic room.  
  
The archangel frowned at Sam and got up slowly from his seated position on one of the cheap chairs next to the tiny table.  
  
“What is happening to you, Sam?”  
  
Lucifer didn’t sound curious, like so often, but genuinely concerned and so Sam didn’t pull away when Lucifer walked up to him and sat down on the bed.  
  
Sam tried to laugh, but it was a sound full pain and fatigue that he felt powerless to resist when the archangel in front of him placed his cold hand around Sam’s jaw. It was a loving and careful gesture, and Sam found himself leaning into the touch. The first affectionate touch since Dean had thrown him into the panic room.  
  
“I’m...tired, I guess. You can fight only for so long before you want to give up. I think I reached this point now. When you’re asking me again to say yes, I might do it now. Ask your question, Lucifer. I’m too tired to play these games anymore.”  
  
The archangel suddenly looked alarmed and pulled his hand away as if the touch was burning him while it was so soothing to Sam. Reaching for Lucifer’s cold hand once more, Sam didn’t let go and closed his eyes when the cold emanating from Lucifer started to spread over his own skin.  
  
“What’s happening to you in the real world, Sam?”  
  
Sam couldn’t hear the concern, the rage, in the archangel’s voice when he closed his eyes and leaned against Lucifer’s shoulder. Strong arms ended up wrapped around Sam’s shoulders. To Sam, Lucifer smelled of freshly fallen snow, and a picture of a blood-red bird sitting among snow-covered branches played in his mind.  
  
“Dean is blaming me for everything...He threw me into the panic room and locked the door behind himself...It’s only a matter of time until he forgets about me and will lose the key. I’m too tired to fight anymore. It’s enough, I just want to rest, but Dean doesn’t allow it and forces me back into a world that doesn’t want me to live in it. I should have stayed dead.”  
  
Sam felt Lucifer flinch and with a frown, he pulled back without letting go of the archangel’s hand.  
  
“It’s okay, Lucifer. It’s not your fault.”  
  
Lucifer growled in front of Sam, and the hunter saw huge shadows of wings rise behind Lucifer’s back.  
  
“And neither is it yours, Sam. It really seems that an archangel’s vessel is the perfect match to the archangel himself...Dean is just like Michael. Lock up what’s not following your idea. If you want me to help you, Sam, you can pray to me when you’re awake again. I’m still an angel, even when everyone has forgotten about this, and I will hear your prayer and free you from your Cage, Sam. We’ll fight whoever comes at us, and when we’re done, it’s up to you to decide if I have to leave or if I’m allowed to stay. The choice is yours and will always be yours.”  
  
For long silent minutes, Sam looked at Lucifer, his tired mind still working on what he just had heard from the archangel in front of him who still hadn’t let go of Sam.  
  
“The room is warded against angels. Even if you hear me, you can’t enter.”  
  
Lucifer chuckle was amused and smug at once.  
  
“Maybe they warded your Cage against the normal kind of angels, but...I’m an archangel. The wardings will not affect me, Sam. I promise that I will come to you when you call me.”  
  
Sam said nothing while he watched Lucifer and compared with other angels Sam had met in the past, Lucifer really had a hang on using his human vessel, unlike the other angels who looked like they weren’t comfortable in their stolen skin.  
  
Nodding, Sam leaned his head against Lucifer’s shoulder and took a deep breath of frosty air...and woke up. He was once more in the suffocating panic room, and Sam could already feel the walls coming down around him again. He was still lying on the floor in the same position when he fell. The spilled water had already dried on the cement floor. Sitting up felt like someone was stabbing shards or blades into Sam’s head and he blinked against the painful flashes dancing behind his eyes.  
  
Looking around, Sam looked at the wardings sealing the room against everything Dean had thought about, but...would Lucifer be able to enter when Sam prayed to him?  
  
Sam could hear the music drifting down from wherever it was playing in the house. It took him a moment until he noticed which song was playing, and over the stabbing pain, Sam felt himself smile in an almost cynical way.  
  
_How long must we sing this song?_

_How long, how long?_

_'Cause tonight, we can be as one_

_Tonight, tonight_  
  
Closing his eyes, Sam tried to open his mind while he focused his whole being on Lucifer. He pictured the archangel’s vessel behind his closed eyes before he sent out his prayer to the Devil himself.  
  
_“Lucifer, I’m waiting for you. Cause tonight, we can be as one”_  
  
A soft breeze pushed a sweaty strand of hair out of Sam’s face, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Lucifer standing in the room, taking in his surroundings, and when his eyes fell onto the closed door, his blue eyes turned red in anger.  
  
“You came…” Even Sam could hear the wonder in his voice, and Lucifer’s smile was warm and full of affection.  
  
“Of course, I came. You called me after all, and I promised you I would always be there for you, Sam.”  
  
Suddenly Sam felt shy and tiny, and he ducked his head until his sweaty bangs fell into his face. He could hear Lucifer move around until he was standing right in front of Sam, only to kneel down.  
  
In the real world, Lucifer’s vessel looked as bad as Sam felt.  
  
“Do you want to leave this place with me, Sam?”  
  
There was only one answer left, and when Sam answered Lucifer, it was with a feeling of relief, joy and happiness.  
  
“Yes, Lucifer.”

**Author's Note:**

> For more of my insanity, find me on tumblr: [Silvaxus](https://silvaxus.tumblr.com/) You want on my taglist on tumblr? No Problem! Write me a message either here on Ao3 with your tumblr tag or write me on tumblr.


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